I loathe dirt under my nails, despise bending for hours in the heat, and can no longer kneel [titanium knee hurts like Hell.] Nonetheless, I’m swept away by gardens. Lawns stretching to the treeline, banks of blooming Azalea, gently running water — Heaven on Earth.

I do garden a wee bit, though, on the patio. In pots. Twice this summer, I’ve emerged from my air-conditioned cocoon to find my pot-full of split-leaf Parsley reduced to a few hundred bare, green stems. WTF?

Stealth and luck solved the mystery this morning: Ah-Ha (see picture). One fat & happy cutworm wriggling around the pot’s rim, his friend heading for the exit. A close-up through my Leica lens, however, had me firmly in a delimna: these are Childrens’ Storybook Worms, pretty and green, funny, loveable. We snuggled at bedtimes to read Eric Carle’s The Hungry Caterpillar, and, a few years later, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, illustrated with lovely, color drawings featuring these wiggley, giggley, adorable CUTWORMS!!

If an All Points Bulletin goes out to law enforcement of the dual-murder of both Hungry and Very Hungry by person or persons unknown, I’m hoping they won’t look for a cute grandmother with a flyswatter.